by Marta Acosta
He smiled and gazed at me. “We’ll continue to investigate Wilcox’s disappearance.”
“I wish I could help, but I can’t remember what happened,” I said. “That’s not everything, though, is it? No one will tell me about the time between Wilcox’s death and my arrival here.”
“They thought it would impede your recovery.”
“It suddenly strikes me as quite bizarre that I didn’t want to know before. Tell me what happened.”
“I’ll tell you what you told Mercedes. An acquaintance of yours was dabbling in blood play. She accidentally cut an artery and bled to death. You stumbled upon the scene and witnessed her husband slipping, striking his head, and dying.”
It sounded incredible, but I believed him. “How could something like that have happened? This was unrelated to Wilcox’s death?”
“It’s the world we live in, and things happen around you.”
“As if I’m a catalyst?”
“Yes, you could put it that way. You were discovered at the scene and taken in for questioning by a private security group.” Ian paused and again I saw sadness in his eyes. “You wouldn’t tell Mercedes what happened.”
“They hurt me, didn’t they?”
“She believes so. They held you for over a week before you were able to escape.”
“Why didn’t I simply tell these people what had happened, when the evidence would have backed me up?”
“You thought it would implicate your friends. You suffered in order to protect them.” He reached out and then pulled his hand back. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s why I won’t remember,” I said. “Did Lily tell you that I’m terrified of water?”
Ian nodded.
“I can’t even think about filling a tub for a bath. What are the police doing about these accidental deaths?”
“Your acquaintance who died, Ford Poindexter, was the son of a scientist who works for a military contractor. They’re influential enough to keep the deaths off police records.”
“Will these contractors come after me?”
“They didn’t discover your identity, but that doesn’t mean you’re entirely safe. I believe Mercedes knows more about their location, but she won’t disclose anything else.” He took out a phone and said, “Will you call her and give your permission to tell me anything she knows about where you were held?”
I nodded and he pressed a few buttons on the phone and then said, “Mercedes, I’m here with Milagro. She’d like to speak with you.”
I took the phone and said, “Hi, sweetness.”
“Hey, Mil. So you’re with Ian?”
“Yes, he’s interviewing me about what I know. What did I tell you about where I was held?”
“You weren’t sure of the location. I’ve tried to narrow down the possible neighborhoods from your description.”
“Okay, I give my permission for you to tell whatever you know to Ian.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
I looked at the dark-haired man. “Yes, I’m absolutely sure. Oh, and guess what? I got engaged to Oswald again!”
“Oh,” she said. “Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Hokay, love ya.” I returned the phone to Ian who said, “Thank you, darling.”
The term seemed so personal that I was startled and then I realized that Ian was one of those continental smoothies who probably called every coat-check girl “darling.”
“If Mercedes hadn’t seemed so concerned, I wouldn’t have believed any of this,” I said. “I thought I was supposed to be answering your questions.”
“You are. Did you kill Wilcox Spiggott?”
“I frequently say that I want to kill someone, but I hope I would never do anything so unforgivable. I couldn’t stand myself if I took another life.”
“I don’t believe you killed Spiggott. You were fond of him,” Ian said. “Lily’s quite concerned about your answers to word associations and your refusal to accept that we’re vampires.”
“That’s Lily in a nutshell: a pretty and serious girl who has a shared delusion that she’s a vampire,” I said. “Now, you as a vampire, that’s far more plausible. Are you mad with the desire to bite my neck and drink my blood, Ian?”
His lips parted and he let out a soft breath as he stared at me. I felt like a deer who’d run into the road on a dare and was now paralyzed by the oncoming headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. Finally Ian said, “The Grants fully anticipated that when they established the conditions for our interview.”
I felt myself grow hot, and I looked away. He had charisma, and that made me mistrust myself around him. I said, “Back to Lily, I’m very fond of her, especially since I think she’s a natural gardener. I wish she would focus more on horticulture and less on headshrinking.”
Ian reached out and put his hand over mine, making me want to rip off my glove so I could feel his skin.
“She told me about this therapy,” he said, and moved his hand to the rough fabric of my sleeve, making the smooth pink scar on my arm throb hotly in response. “Is she protecting you from your sensuality, or others from its effects?”
My voice came out as a whisper as I said, “What do you think, Ian?”
His lips turned up in a dangerously sexy grin, and just then I heard heels clicking on the floor. I turned to see a stunning, tall, thin woman in the doorway, and Ian moved his hand off my sleeve.
The woman’s straight, waist-length hair had a gold-over-silver luster. She wore skinny white pants, spiky electric blue sandals, and an ice blue silk camisole that matched her ice blue eyes.
“I am tired of the waiting for you, Ian,” she said with some sort of European accent. She gazed at me and made a tcha! sound. “How ugly the clothes.”
“Milagro, this is my friend Ilena,” Ian said. “Ilena, that was a very thoughtless comment.”
“It is indisputable of the fact,” she said with a moue.
I plucked at the fabric of my shapeless pants. “It’s okay. These clothes are hideous.”
Ilena puffed out her lips and said, “Why is the chubby little pickle always in need of your attention, Ian?”
I looked at Ian to see if he understood what she meant.
He said, “I have a passion for gherkins.”
I thought it would be rude to say that no one had a passion for pickles. “I’ll mention it to Edna and maybe she can serve some at dinner,” I said. “Do you know Edna?”
“Yes, I’m well acquainted with all of the Grant family,” Ian said. “I think we’re done here for now. It was a pleasure spending time with you, Milagro.”
Ian Ducharme seemed like a man who knew a lot about pleasure, and his eyes searched mine for a moment before he stood and went to the beautiful blond girl. He took Ilena’s arm as they went to the study, and I followed frumpily behind.
Oswald jumped up and came to me, putting his arm around me. “How did it go?”
“We’re finished,” Ian said.
Oswald smiled and said, “Excellent.”
Edna had made dinner, extremely rare lamb, dripping in juices, new potatoes, and tomatoes roasted in balsamic vinegar. It was warm enough to eat outside on the slate patio, and Oswald turned on the tiny fairy lights that outlined the impressive old oak.
Sam opened bottles of a California pinot noir that was as soft and fragrant as the night air. Oswald sat across the table, beside Lily, facing me, and he seemed in an especially lively mood.
Ilena sat beside Gabriel and sipped a glass of water.
“You’re a lucky woman, Ilena, to have such an incredible figure,” Oswald said. “My clients work so hard to get what’s natural to you.”
Lily’s smile seemed stiff. “Is it accurate to say that they work hard, Oswald, when you’re the one performing the surgery?”
He grinned. “They work hard to pay for the surgery.”
“Don’t you like lamb?” Gabriel asked her.
She made a pfft sound and waved her hand. “It is easier not to eat
than to be the bulimic with the bad teeth, or to be the sweaty sports girl in the tracksuit.”
“Yes, Ilena,” Ian said, “but dining like this is one of life’s delights.”
He could have said anything, like “What a lovely bowl of bananas,” and I would have found it wildly erotic. Every now and then I caught him watching me, and my body went right into its flight-or-flirt response.
“Ian’s right,” Sam said. “Grandmama and Gabriel, it’s all delicious. So, Ilena, what have you been doing since we last saw you?”
Ilena brought up trips she had taken and said, “I went with Ian to Lviv, to shop for a chalet. Oswald, you must come for the ski parties. So many potential clients are on holidays there, and I only want to see the pretty faces.”
I said, “Lviv is the new Warsaw.”
Ian tilted his head and stared at me. “What was that, Milagro?”
“What? I don’t know. I don’t even know where Lviv is.”
“It’s in the Carpathians,” Oswald said. “Thanks, Ilena. I don’t have much opportunity to get out of the country, though.”
AG filled Edna’s glass and said, “Would you like to go with me there sometime?”
“Do you travel now?” she asked. “You used to hate it.”
“Like Oswald, I was working and had a hard time getting away from my responsibilities.”
She said, “I know you were doing it all for us, but the children and I would have loved for you to be part of our vacations.”
“There are always the grandchildren and their children. Just Sam’s daughter for now, but there will be others soon, I hope.” AG smiled at me as if I was a prize heifer, and I suddenly realized that I didn’t like him at all.
As the evening wore on, the wine had its effect, and conversation grew more animated as my companions talked over one another and across the table. A bottle of port was brought out, and AG put his jacket over Edna’s shoulders.
I’d been happy before here, but now I felt such disquiet, as if something was terribly wrong, but I wouldn’t know it until it was too late, like driving on a mountain road and discovering my brakes didn’t work. Espíritu de Wyle E. Coyote. So when Sam said he’d like coffee, I stood up. “I’ll make it.”
As I went toward the house, the entrance gate opened and a red BMW turned into the property. I decided to see who it was, so I walked to the drive.
The car stopped in front of me. The door opened and a golden-skinned man wearing a black T-shirt and charcoal gray slacks got out. His jet-black hair was cut short, showing off the dramatic angles of his face.
He took one look at me and tossed his keys. I grabbed them automatically as he said, “Park that for me, Milagro, and faking amnesia is no excuse to dress like a depressed slug.”
“You’re Thomas Cook!” I gasped, thinking that he looked even better than his photographs. He was tall and beautifully proportioned and as yummy as a freshly baked cookie.
“Where’s my lady?”
“Who?”
“You’re a terrible actress. You should stick to being an assistant, but you’re bad at that, too. But I’ll go along with your improv. Where’s Edna?”
“Around back on the patio.”
He strode off around the house.
I got in the warm leather driver’s seat of his car, thinking, My bottom is sitting where Thomas Cook’s bottom sat!
After parking his car, I returned to the others. Edna was standing beside the gorgeous actor, who glared at AG and said, “When are you leaving?”
AG ignored the question and said to Edna, “You can’t be serious about this boy.”
“AG, behave yourself,” Edna said. “Thomas, I thought you were away for two more weeks.”
“I have to go back. I couldn’t stand being away from you when I knew he would be here.”
“How very chivalrous of you to save me from my children’s father, Thomas,” she said with a sly smile.
In a fabulously cheesetastic moment, the actor turned adoring eyes on Edna and said, “I’d cross the oceans for you, my queen. I’d slay dragons for you.”
AG shook his head in disgust, and Gabriel said loudly, “Thomas, I’m sure Ilena and Milagro would love to hear about your experience as an underwear model. We all want to hear it again,” and everyone fell silent for a moment.
Thomas said, “If you insist.”
And Gabriel responded, “Oh, I do.”
AG said, “I don’t have to waste my time listening to this idiocy,” and went into the house.
Thomas led Edna to the table, pulled out her chair, and took the seat beside hers. He smiled his dazzling toothpaste commercial smile and said to her, “You are always sexier than I remember.”
Just as she had looked suddenly weary in the cottage earlier, now she looked vivacious. She narrowed her exotic green eyes and said, “Tell your story.”
Oswald handed Thomas a glass of wine and he took a sip, then said, “I had only been in Hollywood for a week when I heard about the audition …”
Although Thomas’s monologue was one of the most enthralling tales I’d ever heard, my ookiness level increased until I could barely listen to the conversation.
When everyone moved inside, I lagged behind and walked out into the inky night across the field. The grasses brushed against my legs and crickets chirped.
As I reached the boulder by Daisy’s grave, I was startled to see Ian right behind me. “I didn’t hear you,” I said, and sat down. “You’re too quiet.”
“Weren’t you enjoying the company?” He sat on the stone beside me.
“Something feels different tonight,” I said. “This is my dog’s grave. I planted it with rosemary, for remembrance, but I don’t remember her, just as I don’t remember Wilcox. Rosemary shouldn’t remind us to remember; it should represent how essential the act of remembering is to our humanity. It’s an important distinction.”
We were only a few inches apart and now I looked into the night sky and pointed with my gloved hand. “Those stars are Pollux and Castor, the twins raised by wolves,” I said, but I didn’t know who had taught me that. “I wonder if anyone out there is looking at us here on Earth.”
“I should think so, when the view is so captivating.”
Ian was like me, reflexively flirtatious, but he had no idea how powerfully I was drawn to him. My strong reaction must be engagement jitters.
“Your girlfriend is stunning.”
“I think she’s the most dazzling creature in the world.” His dark eyes shone in the darker night. “I love her more than I thought possible.”
“She’s fortunate to have you.”
“Not in the least. I’ve only brought her pain and misery.”
“She seems happy enough.”
“Her happy nature is one of the countless reasons I love her,” he said. “I love her intelligence, the mad mischief in her eyes, the way she makes me laugh, and the way she challenges me. I love her tremendous joie de vivre, her passion, her deeply affectionate nature, her belief in goodness and kindness. When I’m with her, I feel so alive and the world seems full of wonder and possibility.”
I desperately wanted to be the woman he described. “Whatever you’ve done to hurt her, can’t you make it up to her? Won’t she forgive you?”
“I shall never forgive myself,” he said. “If I could do it yet again, I would have tried harder to let her go instead of allowing my desire to rule my actions.”
“She’s an adult. She can make her own decisions about her life. It’s rather patronizing of you to determine what’s best for her.”
“Perhaps it is.”
I wanted to do things to Ian Ducharme that made a lickathon look like a chaste date with your spinster aunt. I wanted to rip his clothes off and suck the very air out of his lungs like a succubus. I wanted to fall at his feet and submit entirely to his most perverse desires like a minion. I wanted to pin him down and tear into his flesh like a wolf. I wanted to drink his blood and possess him like a vampire.
However, a sincere and serious young amnesiac in therapy does not attack a stranger in a field, no matter how gorgeous and in need of comfort he is, especially when her fiancé and his most-beautiful-in-the-world girlfriend were nearby.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t listen to me,” I said. “I’m not qualified to give advice about your love life.”
“What disqualifies you?”
“The usual—a dead boyfriend and his misplaced corpse, amnesia, an engagement held together by duct tape, ghostly visions, a tendency to walk into crime scenes, and unknown enemies.”
Ian laughed and said, “Besides that,” making me laugh, too. “Tell me about your ghostly visions.”
“I think they’re over. I must be getting better, or worse. You can ask Lily for her opinion, although I’m sure it will be dire.”
“Milagro, do you want to stay here, to be with Oswald?”
“It’s very beautiful here and Oswald’s been wonderful. He took me back when I needed help. And I know he loves me, because he’s given me gifts that only someone who truly understood me could give me, like a first edition of Jane Eyre.”
“He gave you the ring around your neck,” Ian said.
“It’s more traditional than my usual style, but I think these earrings are from Oswald, too, because I kept them with my special things.” I turned my head from side to side to make the disco balls swing. “See how fun they are?”
“They’re tremendously fun. And do you love him?”
“I must, or why would I have come back? He’s serious and sincere and successful. He’s noble and he does good deeds.” I paused, wondering why I didn’t feel more enthusiastic. “I’m sure I’ll find that we’re perfectly compatible in every way.”
“You mean you haven’t—”
“That’s none of your business, and no doubt when we did before, it was amazing,” I said, but I thought uneasily of the silver penknife.
As if he could read my mind, Ian said, “Even though he’s a vampire and will want to drink your blood? You would let him cut you and taste you?”
“Oswald’s a good man, an admirable man, and I’ll do what’s necessary to make the relationship work,” I said. “I’ll do better this time. I won’t make the same mistakes. I won’t take risks and be silly and needy and let people interfere with my relationship.”
